


Remember Me, Please

by eggsystolemyhart



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Immortality, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-14
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-01 13:42:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5207981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eggsystolemyhart/pseuds/eggsystolemyhart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Hart is an immortal but his soulmate is not. </p>
<p>Harry Hart has watched his soulmate die for countless times, and he's had enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First Time I Met You

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Sorry for the slow start. I promise it'll get better in subsequent chapters. But I felt like I needed to elaborate on how Harry and Eggsy fell in love in the first life time. 
> 
> In case you didn't know, Harry is immortal and he doesn't die while Eggsy well, dies repeatedly in Harry's arms. Yeah... I'm sorry. 
> 
> Enjoy!

_ 11th Century England _

Harold Harefoot was a mere 22 when he first met Edmund Saxon. It was one thing to appreciate beauty for beauty was and an entirely different thing to gaze upon said beauty and be utterly gobsmacked by it. No, gobsmacked was too mild; entranced was probably a better word.

Up until then, Harold hadn't even been aware that he tended toward the other sex; hell, he hadn't even been aware that such a thing was possible, much less experience it for himself. But somehow, he couldn't control it. From the first time he laid eyes on the young man, he felt an inexplicable pull toward him. Yes, he may have wanted nothing more than to run his hand along the smooth skin of the young man's neck, kissing and marking the creamy skin, coaxing moans and whispers of his own name... But more than that, he wanted to _get to know_ the young man, understand his likes and dislikes, acquaint himself with his routines in the mornings, understand his dreams and aspirations, and selfishly, wanted to be the _only_ person to possess all these information.

So, Harold decided that he was going to do just that. Edmund had been his manservant, (although Harold absolutely hated the term. If he was going to do this, he was going to do this right, Edmund had to be treated like his equal) and Harold saw and interacted with Edmund far more than he did anyone. It started off with casual questions about his general well-being, which had always been answered politely with a "Yes sire, I am very much well. I deeply thank you for the concern." before Edmund placed the final platter on the dining table and departed with a bow. This cold and clinical professionalism had greatly frustrated Harold but he was not anything if not determined. He started to ask Edmund about his family, focusing greatly on the younger sister that he had as that seemed to be the only topic that got his eyes to sparkle as he described animatedly about the adventures his beloved Dahlia went on before hurriedly apologising for the lack of conduct and begged for forgiveness. Although Harold had told him time and time again that there was nothing to apologise for, Edmund seemed adamant about it. As more time went by however, Harold began noticing subtle changes in his-- Edmund. Gone were the cold and strictly professional mannerisms, which were quickly replaced by shy, covert glances at the King when he thought he wasn't looking. In addition to that, Edmund seemed less reserved about himself and started sharing details of his life with the King even when he wasn't being prompted, even throwing in a few witty comments that threw the mighty king off guard. 

Harold had been extremely pleased with the way things were progressing. But as they say, good things don't last long. 

Harold's paternal uncle, Chester reminded him that in order for him to be able to continue ruling as the good king of England, he had to wed a wife by the age of 24. This newly received information only served to douse Harold's dreams of being with a particular blond-haired boy with icy, cold water. He knew, beyond a doubt, that he wanted a life with Edmund but he knew he couldn't let Chester have his way with the empire that his father had poured blood and sweat into building. Anguished and frustrated, Harold crushed up the letter and threw it to the corner of the room. 

-

Following the subsequent days since the letter, Harold mulled over all the possible scenarios that could possibly play out, and the verdict was clear to him- he had to choose to give up one.

-

With heavy footsteps, Harold trudged into the vast dining hall and sat at the head of the table. Despite himself, Harold always looked forward to meal times as that would mean he could see that bright and beautiful boy of his. Somehow, the boy's shining blue eyes always managed to bring calm even in the stormiest of days. That particular day however, his dinner was served by another manservant whom he didn't recognise. Puzzled, Harold questioned the manservant as to Edmund's whereabouts. 

"Sire, Edmund... Is no longer with us, sire."

Harold's insides chilled as his vision swam and his legs threatened to give out from beneath him. 

How... How did that happen...

Seeing the king's quickly paling face, the manservant quickly corrected himself.

"Sire, no, sire, I meant that Edmund is no longer serving within the castle, sire."

Harold's legs finally gave way from beneath him and he quickly angled himself onto the seat as he took a breath he did not realise he had been holding. 

"Never... Never do that again." Harold finally breathed as he rose his hand weakly to dismiss the manservant. 

"I am deeply sorry, sire." the manservant said as he hurriedly scrambled out of the king's room. 

-

Harold hadn't the faintest idea why Edmund had decided to leave the castle so abruptly without even mentioning anything to him. Maybe he wasn't as important as he'd expected to be to the boy. After all, he must have been nothing more than his king, nothing else... "But he had looked at you differently... You saw how he looked at you, like you lit up his day... Like he wanted nothing more than to listen to you complain and grumble about sonnets despite how boring you know it to be..." Harold's brain supplied as his heart twinged with the possible thought of meaning more than just a ruler, as a superior to Edmund. 

"Merlin" Harold called as his most trusted friend and adviser entered the room.

"What can I do for you, sire?" 

"I need you to help me find someone. It must be discreet. Bring him to me at once."


	2. Things of Fables and Legends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I think I might have inhaled you.  
> I can feel you behind my eyes.  
> You've gotten in my bloodtsream.  
> I can feel you flowing in me."
> 
> -Stateless, Bloodstream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the support! Hope you enjoy this chapter! :)

"You requested my presence, sire?" Edmund asked warily as he stood hesitantly at the entryway of the king's quarters.

-

The past few days had been utter agony for Edmund. Every single waking moment spent away from the king's side had been tiring and _painful_. He craved being around his king, basking in his presence, greedily taking in the king's every smile, every word, every movement. From the moment Edmund had been assigned as King Harold's manservant, he'd wondered what kind of master he would be serving- would he have to bow and be painfully stiff and polite all the time? Would the king scoff and turn his nose up at the likes of a peasant boy like Edmund? Of all the wondering and questions he'd had, he never for once came close to guessing how the king would really be like. As he first laid eyes upon the king, he had been _besotted_. Edmund wasn't blind- he could see exactly how dashing and charming the king was. The gentleness and warmth in his whiskey-brown eyes, the lithe and slim waist, accentuated by his broad and strong shoulders, those delicate and long fingers that brought a sudden flood of _need_ and desire in Edmund, and funnily enough, had caused the weird looking mark on his shoulder to prickle with heat, not a burning, painful heat, but a warm and comforting heat, as if coming to life for the very first time.

Edmund assumed that the inexplicable attraction to the king, the need to be in close proximity to him had all been the doings of lust. Lust- that he could deal with, but it was only until he had found himself attuned to the king's moods, every single emotion- happiness, frustration, anger, melancholy- that he knew he was dangerously close to falling. Then it no longer became about how the king _looked_ , but about how the king _felt_. His heart bounded with happiness whenever the king laughed at one of his witty comments- a feeling of warmth and tenderness and _a little something else_  coursing through his entire body, his heart felt heavy with every dejected sigh and every frown that creased the king's forehead. That was when Edmund realised that he was truly and utterly _gone_ for the king. 

He had tried to keep his distance, maintaining a stiff and professional demeanor initially, hoping that by distancing himself away from the king physically, it would keep his heart away as well. Unfortunately, the king seemed adamant at speaking to Edmund every chance he got, listening and taking in his every word like they were treasures to behold. The more Edmund shared his life's stories, the more he gave his heart to the king. That was when he decided that he wasn't going to shy away anymore. He may not be able to win the king's heart but he was going to make the king the happiest ruler to have ever lived and if the king enjoyed listening to Edmund's stories that much, he wasn't going to deny him that. Edmund knew that this would only serve to torture him later, when the king sought a new bride and laid his affections with some faceless woman instead, but he couldn't keep away, not when he could stay right here, not when he had a shot at making his one true _love_ happy. 

-

He did not mean to read the letter that King Harold's uncle had sent him. Chancing upon the crushed piece of paper in the corner of the room, Edmund had been curious and had assumed that one little peek wouldn't hurt anyone, besides he needed to know if the document was unimportant enough to discard. Nothing, however, would have prepared him for the stabbing, shearing pain he felt to his heart when he read the letter. He had always known that the king would have to wed ultimately but his gut twisted painfully at the thought of the king, _his_ king laughing and smiling merrily with his new bride as they took a leisurely stroll in the Royal Garden, with his arms wrapped protectively around his bride's waist as he bent down to kiss the faceless woman. Tears prickled his eyes and the mark began to burn uncomfortably as Edmund pressed his palm toward the mark to soothe the burn and fled the room. 

He knew that he was being ridiculous- he did not own the king, their relationship was that of a master and a servant, maybe a friend, at best. He did not have the right to feel this hurt, yet he could not help himself. The only thing that he could do- for the sake of the king and himself, was to ensure that he would never need to see the king ever again. 

-

"Edmund." 

Edmund had been wary not to look at his king. He knew that if he had so much as glanced at his king, he would kneel and beg the king not to get married, he would lose all semblance of control he so minutely had. But at the sound of his name, uttered by his king with such tenderness, brought back a familiar desire pooling in his gut, a familiar tug at his already wrenched heart. 

"Edmund, please, we are no strangers. The way you... The way you keep me at an arm's length... I cannot bear it." Harold whispered brokenly. Every inch between them felt like a stab to Harold's heart. How he longed to reach out to the boy, to stroke his hair gently, to hold him in his arms and never let him go...

"I am sorry sire, but... This is better. For us. I... I read the letter. The one your uncle had sent. You may punish me however you would like for not knowing my boundaries but please, do not subject me to the pain of witnessing your marriage, do not subject me to the pain of waiting on the new queen when I so dearly crave to be in her position instead. I know that I am crossing a thousand lines here for I am but a measly servant and I do not ask you to forgive my impudence, but I am asking you to let me go... I beg of you to release me from this fresh hell... I can't, I cannot bear it." Edmund said as he took in a deep breath and finally looked up at the king with watery blue eyes, pain reflected clearly in their depths. 

"Edmund... Edmund... How could I have been so foolish?" Harold started. A feeling akin to hope and happiness bubbled up within him as he pulled Edmund toward him and crushed his lips against his. Edmund's lips remained unmoving but soon enough, they began moving on their own accord, soft and yielding against Harold's. Harold weaved his fingers through the soft blond hair and sucked on Edmund's plump lower lip, seeking entrance. As Edmund opened up his mouth without hesitation, Harold took the chance to explore the boy's mouth, licking and twirling his tongue with Edmund's, conveying with frenzied and urgent kisses all the repressed feelings and emotions that he had kept from the boy. Finally, unable to put it off much longer, they broke apart for air as Harold took in the reddened, spit-slick lips and dazed look on the boy's face. 

"I.. I didn't know you felt this way, sire." Edmund whispered. 

"Please, it's just Harold to you now. That kiss..." Harold said as he cradled Edmund's head in his hand, thumb caressing his cheekbone. "That kiss was a man confessing his love for another man. It was not about the empire, or the kingdom, or the position. It was me, trying to tell you that I very much wish to be with you, to protect you, to love and cherish you for as long as I shall breathe." 

"But your uncle... He wouldn't give up if you didn't get married and you definitely can't be seen married to a ma-"

Harold cut Edmund off with another kiss as he whispered against his lips "My darling, from the moment you walked through that door, I felt myself being drawn toward you. From the first word you spoke, I knew I was falling, inexplicably. From the first time you looked up at me with those bright blue eyes of yours that withheld so much love and affection, I knew that there would not be any other. There would only be you, forever more and always. The mere thought of replacing you with a faceless woman in the crowd is enough to make my gut twist and my heart ache unbearably. I find myself to be quite _enamoured_ with you, my dear, darling Edmund."

Gazing into Harold's warm whiskey-brown eyes, Edmund felt grounded, he felt like he had found _home_ , the mark on his chest prickled with the welcoming heat again. 

Looking into the wide, blue eyes, Harold caressed Edmund's plump lower lip with his thumb, moistened by Edmund's gaping mouth and warm breath. Almost instinctively, Edmund's tongue stuck out to lick Harold's thumb. Harold's eyes darkened as he tilted Edmund's head and mouthed at his neck, sucking and nibbling at the delicate skin there, licking a broad stripe across the mark after it had been made. Edmund's breath became noticeably more ragged as Harold began devouring his neck, every single moan and gasp drawn out from Edmund shooting straight down to his cock. He reached out to bury his fingers into Harold's hair to hold him against his neck as Harold started walking Edmund backwards toward the bed, stopping when the back of Edmund's knees hit the bed frame. Harold looked up at Edmund, eyes completely darkened except for a thin rim of blue, and crushed their mouths together in a heated kiss. It was wet and incredibly urgent, Harold's blood burnt with _need_ and crippling _desire_ , needing to touch Edmund's bare skin, to feel the heat of the younger man's body engulfing his, to have nothing between them. 

Harold toppled Edmund onto the bed as he nudged his knees apart and positioned himself between them, kissing along his jaw, licking and tasting the sweat of him as he swiftly began unbuttoning and removing the thin, cotton tunic, pushing it off his shoulder before removing it entirely, revealing Edmund's pale and chiseled chest. That was when Harold noticed the reddish mark just above Edmund's heart. Carefully, he put his fingers on top of it. The mark flared with heat as soon as Harold brushed his fingers above it, swiftly morphing into the shape of a crown, a tiny H.H. inscribed inside it. "I don't believe this... This... This was just things of fable, of legend..." 

"Wha? What's going on Si- Harold?"

Harold responded by removing his silk tunic and showing Edmund the mark he had just above his heart, identical in position to Edmund's. 

"I..." Edmund whispered in awe as he brushed his fingers gently across the mark, which identically flared with heat and morphed into the same crown as Edmund's, except with an E inscribed within. 

"I never knew that the tales of soul-mates and soul-marks were true... We were meant to be together, we were always meant to be together. You... You belong to me Edmund." Harold said as he brushed their foreheads together, sealing their new found bond with a kiss, not daring to believe that all this were true.

"We didn't even know, and yet we found each other... We found each other Harold..." Edmund said as tears began filling his eyes with indescribable happiness, before he pressed a kiss on Harold's mark, with _his_ initial inscribed within it, marking Harold as _his_. 

Harold's mark flared, and an insurmountable wave of pleasure spread through his body. With greater urgency than before, he began kissing Edmund again, while methodically removing the offending pieces of garment between them, never once breaking apart, finally leaving Edmund flushed and naked, wriggling beneath him, desperate to get some friction against his body. Harold licked a broad stripe across his palm before taking Edmund's swollen and leaking cock in his hand, stroking it ever so slowly. He stroked it for a few agonising minutes, greedily relishing in the little whines and moans he elicited from the younger man. Harold then slowly moved down, licking Edmund's nipples as he went. Edmund felt hyper-sensitive to Harold's every move, it was like his body was wired to the slightest of Harold's every touch. Edmund moaned again as Harold licked at his navel, his cock bouncing against Harold's throat, precome staining his neck. Harold smoothed his hands over Edmund's smooth and muscled thighs, spreading them even further apart, pining him onto the bed. 

Tentatively, Harold licked across the tip of Edmund's cock, relishing the taste of Edmund's precome on it, before he engulfed him completely, Edmund blacked out momentarily at the wetness and heat that was Harold's mouth. Edmund cried out as his back arched off the bed and twisted his fingers mercilessly in Harold's hair, pulling tightly. Smirking at the reaction he had elicited out of the younger man, Harold continued bobbing his head furiously, sucking and licking as he went. 

"Har... Harold, please! I need you, I need you inside me, now!" Edmund begged, grabbing at Harold, clawing his back, trying to get him to comply. 

Harold squeezed the insides of his thighs, as he released Edmund's cock with a wet sound. Harold then proceeded to suck at his fingers, covering them copiously with spit as he reached between them, rubbing Edmund's hole softly, teasing him, before he finally breached his entrance, Edmund's mouth opened into a wordless moan at the feeling. Licking his lips, Harold added a second finger, allowing Edmund to adjust to the added digit before he began scissoring his fingers, loosening up the tight hole. Removing his fingers, Edmund whimpered at the loss but it was soon replaced by a moan when his lustful gaze zeroed in on Harold sucking and licking his fingers like he did his cock, covering them with even more spit than before. Without warning, Harold breached Edmund with two of his fingers at one go, before breathing out raggedly as he asked Edmund, "Is this... Are you alright with this?"

"More, more. I need more Harold, you won't break me, just give me more." Edmund pleaded as he grinded himself down on Harold's fingers. Overwhelmed by lust, Harold added a third finger and waited for Edmund to get adjusted to the intrusion. Sliding his fingers tentatively in and out of Edmund's hole, Edmund began to relax, initial discomfort replaced by a fierce lust. 

"I can take it, I need it now, Harold. I need your cock in me now" Edmund moaned almost incomprehensibly. 

Removing his fingers, Harold lined his cock at the entrance, rubbing the tip teasingly against his hole. 

"Please, Har- Harold, stop teasing me." Edmund whimpered as he rocked his hips toward Harold, trying to impale himself on Harold's cock.

Unable to control himself much longer, Harold pushed in inch by inch, letting Edmund adjust to the feeling of fullness, before he finally bottomed out. "Ah!" Harold gasped out, his eyes squeezing shut at the burning heat engulfing his prick, his body seizing with pleasure. 

Opening his eyes, he saw Edmund's chest heaving as he nodded wordlessly, moving his hips in a circular motion as he goaded Harold to move. Harold thrusted in frantically as Edmund moved to meet his every thrust, finding the perfect angle to hit his prostate every time. "Oh oh oh- Harold" Edmund breathed out, incoherent by the sensations plaguing his body. 

"So, so gorgeous. So beautiful." Harold moaned as he slammed his hips into Edmund. Edmund cried out as he arched his back and Harold continued thrusting mercilessly, burying his head in the crook of his neck, suckling and licking at Edmund's crown-shaped mark, causing a wave of pleasure to flood through his body. With that, Edmund cried out Harold's name, closing his eyes as he jumped over the edge. Feeling the incredible squeezing tightness on his cock, pleasure shot up from his prick as he came groaning Edmund's name. He emptied himself inside Edmund as he brushed his lips against his sweaty forehead. "Precious, so precious" he whispered as he lightly touched the crown on Edmund's chest. " _Mine_."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope it wasn't too confusing. In this AU, soulmate-marks only morph into its form when the soulmate touches it and kissing it heightens pleasure.  
> I'll continue swapping POV in this fic and I hope it doesn't get too confusing. If anyone finds it too messy, do comment on it and I'll edit it! : 
> 
> This is my first time writing smut. I hope its not too bad.  
> *Flees and hides*  
> This is the calm before the storm so brace yourselves!  
> *Flees and hides forever*
> 
> Thank you for reading! Comments are kudos are very much appreciated!


	3. Black Cloud

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The broken bond seared painfully in Harold as the mark on his chest burned excruciatingly and tears prickled his eyes at the burn. Harold bent down and planted the softest of kisses on Edmund's forehead before allowing himself one final kiss against Edmund's lips. "Sleep... My dear... Your Harry will be here when you wake." Harold said as he placed two fingers on his mark, a symbol of his promise.
> 
> "I love you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I know this chapter took forever but real life hit me like a lorry. Everything was spiraling out of control. So I'm terribly sorry for the long wait guys! Here you go, hope you enjoy!

Moonlight streamed in through the balcony doors, casting shadows on Edmund's creamy-white skin. Harold propped himself up on his elbow slowly, trying not to wake the beautiful boy who had snuggled up comfortably against his side and gazed lovingly at the boy's sleeping form. Unable to stop himself, Harold reached out to lightly trace Edmund's features- from the curve of his eyelids, brushing across his long, blond eyelashes, down to the bridge of his nose, and finally to the bow of his plump and luscious lips; the crown-shaped mark on his chest thrumming lightly with every touch of his boy's skin. 

It had been a month since Edmund and Harold had first realised that they were soulmates, yet Harold hardly dared to believe that this stubborn, strong and fiercely beautiful boy was _his_ , that he had been dictated by some higher power to _belong_ to Harold, forever and always. The moonlight that had reflected on Edmund's face only served to make him seem more ethereal somehow, the usually creamy-white skin seemed almost porcelain-like, fragile and delicate, and it imbued within Harold an overwhelming urge to want to protect and love and cherish and be worthy of this boy, _his_ boy. 

"Why are you starin' at me again Harry?" Edmund mumbled, with his face half squished into the pillows. 

Startled out of his stupor, Harold chuckled unashamedly as his eyes shone with fondness upon hearing the nickname Edmund had chosen for him. Somehow, Harry seemed to just fit. It felt... Right. The way Edmund had said it with such affection and love, "Harry" sounded like any other nicknames lovers had used for each other for centuries. Wrapping his arms around Edmund, Harold pulled Edmund flush against his side and pressed his lips softly against his forehead while Edmund sighed contentedly and drifted back to sleep. 

All was well. Everything was perfect. 

-

Everything was not perfect. Everything was anything but. 

Unfortunately, Chester had not forgotten about the clause that all Kings who ruled over England were to marry by the age of 24, for failure to do so would mean that the King chooses to forfeit his position to the next in-line, which so happened to be Chester's son, Charlie. Chester knew what a stubborn sort Harold was. To push him to marry all for the sake of his throne, rather than for love would be akin to mutilating and violating the very principle of the man. And this was playing exactly into Chester's hands. The throne was meant to be _his_. _He_ had been the oldest son- the throne was his _birthright_. But their father, the sorry excuse of a King had decided that George, Harold's father and Chester's younger brother had been more suitable as a candidate for King, with his charming persona and kind-heart, yet sharp and bright mind which had undoubtedly won over the hearts of the masses. For more than 50 years, he had bided his time, waiting patiently and secretly scheming the downfall of George's bloodline. Enlisting the help of General Valentine, Chester had a fair proportion of the army under his control. Although the majority of the army continued to be loyal to Harold, the soldiers under General Valentine's control were driven by a far stronger and fiercer motivation- greed. They were unsatisfied with how their King seemed perfectly happy and contented with just that piece of land, when they could take over their neighbours' as well with such ease, given how strong their army was. How much more gold, riches, power and women they could _possess_ , yet, their King dismissed any such notion with a wave of his hand when it had been raised by their General Valentine. But Chester had provided with just the right push and support they needed to overthrow their King and get their hands on what they truly _deserved_.

-

Sunlight shone brightly in the room and Harold grunted in annoyance at the bright light as he tossed and turned, twisting the sheets around himself and felt around blindly for Edmund but all he touched was a cold spot. Befuddled, Harold heaved himself up and squinted his eyes, eyes raking across the room in search for Edmund. Finally, he saw Edmund, who was carrying a large brass basin filled with warm water and a wash cloth.

"Finally Harold? I thought I'd had to call the miracle healer over to revive your corpse. You really sleep like the dead Harry." 

"That's because I was awake in the wee hours of the morning while _you_ were dead to the world."

"And whose fault is it that you were awake in the wee hours of the morning? Whose fault is it that you decided to stare at me while I slept you pervy man?"

"It is hardly my fault that you are so beautiful." 

With that Edmund blushed scarlet from cheeks to ears and he cleared his throat as he rinsed the wash cloth in the basin and proceeded to wipe Harold's face while muttering "flatterer" under his breath. Harold grabbed Edmund's hands in his and pulled him to sit on the bed beside him and looked him in the eye before breathing out, "I mean it you know, you _are_ beautiful." The smile and blush that lit up Edmund's face then made Harold vow that he would be the one who ensured that Edmund looked like that all the time. Harold cupped Edmund's face in his palm as he placed feather-light kisses on his forehead, nose, cheeks, before finally pressing his lips against Edmund's. "I love you." Harold whispered, brushing his lips against Edmund's with every word, solemnly touching two fingers to his mark before finally sliding their lips together, an unspoken promise of those three words uttered. 

-

Unbeknownst to the soulmates, someone had been hiding by the door of the room, peering in and watching the events that transpired before him hungrily. He may not have heard what was said between the King and the manservant, Edmund, but the fact that the King was besotted with him was crystal clear, and that meant that the next step of their plans could be carried out...

-

It happened so quickly. So swift that Harold had no time to react at all. He and Edmund had been out on a stroll in the Royal Gardens. As he had wanted a little privacy to be able to hold Edmund's hand as and when he wished while they walked, he had asked the guards to stay outside the garden instead, his manservant would be adequate. As soon as they were out of sight of the guards, an arrow had been shot, hearing the swoosh of the arrow being released from its bow, Harold quickly pushed Edmund and tackled him to the ground, shielding him from the top. 

"What on earth was that? Was... Was that an assassination attempt on your life Harry??" Edmund stammered as his face paled and his body turned cold. That was when Harold noticed that Edmund was shaking uncontrollably as he stared wide-eyed at him. Harold pulled Edmund toward him and enveloped him in a bone-crushing hug as he tried to sooth his boy. "It's alright now Edmund, it's alright. They did not manage to hurt me. We best get out of here now. Are you able to walk?" Harold wrapped his arms around Edmund, trying to stabilise him and keep his knees from buckling under him. "No, this is preposterous. We need... We need to find the bastard who did this. We need to get him. We need to find him. We need to kill him." Edmund's face was still considerably pale but his eyes shone with a fierce determination and protectiveness that Harold had only seen when Edmund spoke of his sister Dahlia and how he vowed to get her out from the clutches of his abusive and swine of a stepfather. Edmund stumbled as he walked toward the guards, yelling for them to search for the assassin and protect their King.

Harold saw it a fraction of a second too late. By the time he had screamed out Edmund's name, a second arrow had already embedded itself in Edmund's heart. Fresh blood spilled out, staining the white tunic a stark red. Edmund crumbled to the ground as Harold rushed over to support Edmund just as he fell. "No Edmund. No. Don't you dare. This is an order... An order you hear me? Please... Please... Please no..." Harold sobbed as he shook his head furiously, refusing to take in the sight before him. "I... I... I am sorry... I love you... Always... Harr... I'll... Wait for you..." Edmund said as blood spilled out of his mouth and his hand fell limp by his side before he could reach up to cup Harold's face. The broken bond seared painfully in Harold as the mark on his chest burned excruciatingly and tears prickled his eyes at the burn. Harold bent down and planted the softest of kisses on Edmund's forehead before allowing himself one final kiss against Edmund's lips. "Sleep... My dear... Your Harry will be here when you wake." Harold said as he placed two fingers on his mark, a symbol of his promise.

"I love you." 

-

Harold carried Edmund solemnly back to the castle. Despite Merlin's fervent requests for him to put the boy down as it was simply not proper for a King to be carrying a mere servant-boy, Harold squared his jaw and held his boy even closer against him. Upon reaching the quarters, Harold laid Edmund carefully on the bed and held the boy's lifeless and rapidly cooling hand as he gently caressed his knuckles with his thumb. 

"Sire, please, you have to let them take him."

"No. No. I can't... I just can't leave him..." Harold said as he obstinately refused to look at his longest friend and wisest advisor. 

"Harold... Please, I beseech you to see reason. He needs to have a proper burial. He deserves that." 

"Merlin... I can't... I love him... So so much... I just..." Harold finally crumbled as he leaned heavily into Merlin and buried his tear stained face into his friend's shoulder and shook with grief. "I know Harold, I know. Aye, but rest assured I'll find the devil who did this and make sure he pays the price. You just sit here and rest alright? I'll settle everything." Merlin said as he soothed his hand up and down Harold's back. Soon, Harold's cries turned to whimpering and sobs and the fatigue finally pulled him under. Silently motioning for the servants to carry Edmund's body away, Merlin arranged a pillow and blankets around Harold and left the room silently, sighing as a heavy feeling latched onto his heart and made it twinge painfully. While Edmund had not been to Merlin what he was to Harold, he saw how much Edmund had meant to Harold in those months of pining and the painfully short weeks they spent together in bliss. In the time that Edmund has been serving at the castle, Merlin had also grown fond of the boy's wittiness and kind-heart and as much as his heart pained for his friend, it also devastated him to have lost the boy at such a young age. Throwing one last look at Harold's sleeping figure, Merlin sighed again as he finally closed the door behind him. 

=

Harold woke up with a start. His sleep-laden mind confused by what he was doing on the floor, surrounded by pillows and blankets, when everything that happened yesterday snapped back into laser-like focus and the utter feeling of _loss_ and _pain_ hit Harold like a train. Removing his tunic, Harold stared at what was once a crown-shaped mark just above his heart which was now a black shapeless cloud. The only similarity was the "E" that was still inscribed within the mark in bright red, a painful reminder of who he belonged to and why he could no longer have him. 

-

The next few days had passed in a blur. Harold no longer felt alive. He no longer felt whole. He felt like a part of him had been forcefully ripped out and in its wake left a gaping hole that could never be filled up again. He couldn't bear to stay in his room any longer. Everywhere he looked, he saw traces of the short but blissful life he had spent with Edmund. He noticed how one side of his bed was no longer creased in the mornings, not that he even slept long enough to crease his side of the bed anymore, he noticed the brass basin and the wash cloth, still seated on the same table Edmund had left it that morning and remembered when he watched the blush light up his love's face at being called beautiful, he noticed the half-embroidered tunic Edmund was making for him and remembered how he had teased Edmund mercilessly for how intricate his work was until he had been bullied into agreeing to make one for Harold as well, he noticed how cold and empty the room was without his boy's blindingly bright smiles and laughter, without the sound of his boy's voice, as he sang, as he hummed, as he told stories of his hometown, as he teased, as he moaned in pleasure... The oppressiveness of the silence finally got to Harold and he fled. He was never coming back. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Un-betaed and Un-edited. I just wanted to post this chapter first. I'll edit it as soon as I can! Sorry for all the mistakes!

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this! Kudos and comments are very much appreciated. Also, I have abysmal knowledge of 11th century England, pretty much everything has no historical accuracy, so forgive me, history buffs :x


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